


Why did you kiss me?

by moon_hedgehog



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic), The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Love/Hate, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, it's finallyyyy posted, not so subtle hints at past abuse, sun/moon au, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 12:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18010640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/pseuds/moon_hedgehog
Summary: choose your last words, this is thelast time'cause you and I, we were born to die.





	Why did you kiss me?

**Author's Note:**

> my bff also made [art](https://rbluepie.tumblr.com/post/182297683019/au-by-moon-hedgehog) for this au, go worship it.

On The Sun's tongue cools down a dusty sensation of deja vu. No, he hasn't been here before – at least he doesn't remember it – but he will definitely visit this place in the future again. It's a light feeling, almost weightless; most humans shrug it off. He's not a human. But on this planet, he has a human name.

The streets of Barcelona are full of hopping sunshine, hiding in the bends of columns and sliding down the tiled roofs. The air is crackling with joy; it's a Spanish wedding and music flows like a river from wooden guitars, washing the feet of those dancing ones. The bride and groom are whirling in a wild rhythm while their families are clapping so loud, it starts to ring in the ears.

Somewhere here hides his Moon. He understands it from the tiniest silvery sparks that land on the ground; from a subtle smell of purity and salt water. If you look closely, you can see the stars scattered on the pavement. Or perhaps these stars are scattered only for him.

But corner after corner, the one who bears the name of Henry Jekyll feels his own heart beating in his chest like a bird. And when he finally notices the one he's been looking for for so long – his breath is taken away. Although he can't suffocate.

 

“Why did you kiss me in 1885?”

“You wanted me. I gave you.”

 

Hasn't changed. Hasn't changed at all. Whatever vessel he holds and whatever form he takes, Jekyll gets lost in the bend of his lips, seeks tenderness in the strands of his hair, and inhales the light of his thin neck. _Edward, Edward_ ; this time doesn't even change the name, and The Sun realizes how much he's gotten used to this name. And for how long hasn't pronounced it.

The Moon doesn't give up immediately. Squints with irritation and eludes him with a handful of stardust, fragments of meteorites underfoot. Last time it was his, Jekyll's, fault again; and despite years past, Hyde's anger seemed to hasn't abated. When Henry drops on knees in front of him, he just looks away gloomily.

It's nothing – he always forgives. Even when his Sun doesn't deserve forgiveness. _Especially_ when his Sun doesn't deserve forgiveness. Years and millennia have repulsed Jekyll from feeling guilty for what was done. For the broken. Ruined. When he looks at Hyde, he remembers how pitiful he was at their last meeting.

But a new century begins, and Henry's rebellious heart hopes that cold hands with silver running through veins will embrace him. Once more.

 

“Why did you kiss me in 1921?”

“You were the only person around.”

 

Edward _gets so_ _scared_ when Henry pulls him a little closer than needed – The Sun almost feels bad. Almost. He's very tired. In the evening, having found his Moon on the roof of a cathedral and listening to the meteor shower of accusations and just _anger_ , he asks for forgiveness (many times in a row) and cuts a cross-oath on his palm to never do what he did last time. Solar Blade sings, stained with the blood of Lord; Edward thoughtfully glances at the gold flowing down Henry's wrist, dripping onto the marble. Then harrumphs and bandages his hand with a who-knows-from-where-taken handkerchief – it's white and this is almost symbolic.

Later at night, they hide in a concert hall where the stained-glass chandelier makes Jekyll smile*. At the last moment, grab the tickets for the first available performance and lurk in the darkness of their seats. When the show begins, Henry doesn't look at what's happening on stage.

He thinks: _I love you. Iloveyousomuchyouareeverydamnthingformepleasepleasedonotbreakmyheartagain._ Henry is possessive. His remorse has long been burned by the number of times when, in his cruelty, he punished the only person capable of loving such a monster. His memory has not forgiven any of those times when that only person betrayed him.

But now The Moon sits next to him, and their fingers almost touch, and everything seems so perfect, to crackle and a foolish smile. Jekyll whispers “I love you” - he's not heard, but this isn't necessary.

 

“Why did you kiss me in 1940?”

“You destroyed me. I'll do the same.”

 

~

 

“What are you doing?” laughs Edward, while his Sun runs his fingers around the bends of his shoulder blades and kisses the bottom of his abdomen.

Henry's praying. Aloud and to himself. With every word of this prayer, he feels his own force only as a reflection of a dying fire; seems like even the heart of his human body begins to beat slower and slower. To continue doing what he's doing now is the surest method of divine suicide. Hell knows if the only one.

“Stop.” Hyde interrupts him with a single kiss – his skin glows from the power that Jekyll has already given him. “Stop, don't do this.” And, inaudibly: “I need you.”

In a few days – or maybe weeks, months, years – they will stomp each other's hearts again, but for now, they can enjoy each other until the very last moment.

**Author's Note:**

> *it's [Palau de la Música Catalana](https://static.ticketbar.eu/barcelona/classificaties/attractions/palau-de-la-musica-catalana/PALAU-MUSICA-1510527600.jpg).


End file.
